


Changes

by songofhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, dean and crowley as besties, drunk besties, leads to lots of flirting, mostly drowley, with background sastiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8335150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofhell/pseuds/songofhell
Summary: When Dean realizes that he’s become the third wheel of Team Free Will, he calls Crowley to have someone to talk to. He never imagined where that would lead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The pool probably isn't that realistic, as I don't play much, so please ignore that.

Castiel ran his hands over Sam’s back as he pulled him into a kiss, the taller man resting his hands on the angel’s hips as he ducked down, their lips moving together soft, but fervent.

“What the hell?”

The couple instantly broke apart, spinning around to see Dean standing in the doorway to the library, looking as though he had just been hit over the head.

Sam could feel pink rising up his neck to his cheeks. “Dean! I, um, I thought you were at the store.”

“I was. I’m back.” His gaze snapped back and forth between Sam and Castiel as though he was watching a tennis match. “What is going on here?”

There was a pause that went on just long enough to become noticeable, before Castiel stepped forward. “Dean, I realize I probably should have discussed this with you beforehand, but Sam and I have been seeing each other for a few weeks now.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Seeing each other? Like… you two… together?”

“Yes, I thought that was what that meant… did I get it wrong?”

“No, Cas.” Sam placed his hand on his arm comfortingly, and the angel turned back to look at him. “Could you give us a minute?”

“Of course.”

The two of them exchanged a look and the moment suddenly seemed so intimate that Dean had to look away. He waited until Castiel left the room before he turned back to his brother, finding himself unable to look directly at him. “A few weeks, huh?” he finally asked when he couldn’t take the deafening silence for another second. “I must have missed the memo.”

“I know I should have told you,” he admitted softly. “I was just worried you’d freak out, and I wanted to enjoy the moment.”

“Freak out? Who’s freaking out? My brother’s dating a freakin’ _angel,_ but what’s weird about that?”

“It’s _Cas,”_ Sam reproached. “Not just some angel, our friend.”

Dean sighed. “I didn’t even know you liked the guy.”

“You’d have laughed at me if I’d told you.”

He just shrugged, looking at the nearest bookshelf as though trying to read the titles.

“I’m happy, Dean.”

He let out a huff of air that might have been a laugh, the corners of his lips curling up slightly as he looked back at Sam with eyes that he couldn’t quite conceal the sadness he felt. “I guess that’s all I can ask for.”

“Hey, you know this doesn’t change anything, right?”

“I know.”

* * *

 

“This changes everything!” Dean ranted, slamming down his third empty glass on the bar. “It’s always been the three of us as a team, and now it’s the two of them, and me, the third wheel.”

“This is what you called me here to complain about?” Crowley grumbled, pressing his fingers over his eyebrow as though trying to relieve a headache.

“Well, the two people who I would normally vent to are probably fucking right now, so I’m not left with many options.”

Crowley sighed. “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight. You don’t want your brother dating Castiel?”

“Yes…. No…. I don’t know….” Dean sighed, dropping his head in his hands as Crowley motioned for the bartender to get him another drink. He glanced up as the drink was set in front of him and downed half of it before continuing. “I want them both to be happy. And I’m sure they’re great together. But…”

“You’re jealous,” Crowley supplied.

“What? No.” Dean shook his head, his expression confused and mildly disgusted. “Cas is my best friend; I’m not interested in him like that.”

“I didn’t say that’s what you’re jealous of. It’s not Cas, it’s that your little brother is in a happy, committed relationship, and _you’re_ still single.”

“Oh…” He looked down at his drink. “No, I’m perfectly happy single.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Please, squirrel. I have made so many deals because of people in your exact position’s desperation to find love. And you’re no different.”

“I ain’t selling my soul for it.”

“Well, no. You have a touch more sense than they did. You’re just going to wallow in your own misery.”

“It’s not like I have a choice. I’m a hunter. Relationships don’t typically work out very well for us.”

“Except that Samantha found the key – someone else who knows the life. He’s not dragging Castiel into anything he wasn’t into before.”

“Right, so I just have to find someone else in the life and get them to fall in love with me. Piece of cake,” Dean scoffed.

“I could help. I have some connections.”

“I don’t think I’d like your connections.” He shook his head slightly before looking at the demon curiously. “Why are you offering?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “The same reason you called me here. Like it or not, Dean, we’re close. I care about you and I want to help.”

Dean chuckled, ducking his head to hide his smile. “I still don’t need you setting me up on blind dates.”

“Fair enough. What do you want, then?”

Dean considered that for a second. “To get drunk and have a good time. You in?”

Crowley smiled as he leaned over the bar to order them another round of drinks. He scooted Dean’s glass over to him and held up his own. “To a good time.”

They clinked their glasses, then Dean drained his before hopping to his feet. “Pool?”

“So long as you realize that you won’t be able to hustle me.” He took a drink from his glass as he got to his feet, following Dean over to the pool table.

“Fine, but we still have to bet _something,_ make it interesting.”

“You want to make a bet with a demon, darling?” Crowley smirked as he picked up a pool cue. “You sure that’s wise?”

“Hey, I ain’t betting anything of value. You’re not getting my soul.”

“I never said I was after your soul. So, what _are_ you betting?”

Dean thought about it as he racked the balls. “Winner buys drinks?”

“The tab is already more than you can afford, squirrel, and we’ve just gotten started.”

“So, I won’t lose.”

“Not that I doubt your skills, sweetheart, but you’re used to playing against small-town hicks who think you’re drunk. I’m out of your league.”

Dean straightened up, a cocky grin on his face as he looked down at Crowley. “Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we? And drinks will be on you.”

Crowley arched his eyebrows. “Fine then, you have yourself a bet. But don’t think I’m going to stop ordering top shelf just because you’re paying.”

Dean snorted as he pulled a coin out of his pocket. “Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

He flipped the coin. “Your break.”

“Right. One mo’.” He finished off his drink and headed back to the bar, returning shortly with another couple of drinks, one of which he handed to Dean.

“Thanks,” Dean said as he took the drink.

“Oh, no – thank you.” He took a drink before lining up the shot.

“And no using your demon mojo to sink more balls.”

Crowley glance up. “I’m scandalized at the thought.” He returned his attention to the table. He barely wasted another second before he broke, sinking two stripes. He sank two more before his turn was over. Alright, that was slightly worrying – not that Dean would admit it. “Your turn, love. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t even let you take a shot.”

“What, don’t want to admit you couldn’t land another shot?” He finished the rest of his already mostly gone drink and moved to the table. “I could use another drink.”

Crowley rolled his eyes as he finished off his own drink. “No cheating while I’m gone.”

Dean sunk one ball and was lining up his next shot when he heard Crowley’s voice right behind him. “My… pool’s even more enjoyable with you bent over the table like that.” Dean didn’t hit the ball quite hard enough and the ball stopped mere inches before the pocket.

Dean spun around, horrified at the blush he could feel creeping up his neck. “You did that on purpose.”

Crowley’s eyes widened innocently. Ha! Like he could actually pull off innocent. “I was just admiring the view. Not my fault you can’t handle a little flirting with your pool. Your drink.” He handed one of the glasses he was holding to Dean, while he took a drink from the other. “And I told the bartender to keep them coming. Hope you don’t mind.”

“I’m not the one paying.” He downed half his drink as he leaned against a nearby table.

“I admire your confidence, even while losing. But a wise man knows when to admit defeat.”

“You admit defeat… loser…”

Crowley sighed as he set his glass down on the table by Dean, scanning the pool table for the best shot. Dean finished off his drink as the demon sank his fifth ball. He didn’t feel like waiting for the waitress to get there with their next round, so he decided what the hell, and took a swig from the drink Crowley had set down. Huh, he had thought they were drinking the same thing, but Crowley’s had a lot more of a kick to it.

Some part of him realized that he should probably be slowing down. How many drinks had he had? Four… five… definitely more than five. And this stuff was _strong,_ too. Oh, well. He drank some more from Crowley’s glass as he watched him line up his next shot. If he was going to win this, he was going to have to take a leaf out of Crowley’s book.

“I have a pretty damn good view, too,” he said with a bit of a slur, tapping Crowley’s ass with his pool cue.

To his delight, Crowley missed the shot completely. He spun around, eyes narrowed. “Really, squirrel?”

Dean smirked as he finished off the drink. “Looks like I’m not the only one who can’t handle a bit of flirting.”

“The _flirting_ I can handle, but I didn’t tap _your_ ass.” Dean chuckled as Crowley’s eyes flickered to the table then back to the empty glass in the hunter’s hand. “Did you drink my drink?”

“Yep. Didn’t feel like waiting.”

“You realize mine had twice the amount of alcohol as yours?”

“Yeah, I figured that out. And what’s the deal with that? I mean, I like alcohol, but _that_ was almost too much.”

“I’m a demon. It takes more to get me drunk.”

“Oh – right. Makes sense.”

A waitress came up with two more drinks, handing one to Dean and the other to Crowley.

“Are they even allowed to serve that?” he asked, motioning vaguely at Crowley’s glass.

“No. But demon. Oh, relax,” he added when Dean’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not hurting or even threatening to hurt anyone. Just a bit of suggestion.”

“Oh…” Dean tried to figure out if he was okay with that, but gave up. He took another drink as he pushed himself away from the table.

Crowley reached out a hand to steady him. “I’m not sure if it’s fair to keep playing you in this state.”

“Shut up. I’m still coherent. I can still play.” He could feel Crowley’s eyes on him as he lined up his next shot. He had played drunker than this before, though, and he had no problems sinking his next ball. “See?”

Crowley hummed his assent as he took a drink.

He sunk another ball and was lining up his third shot when hands were suddenly resting on the table on either side of him and Crowley’s lips were at his ear. “I really do like your form.” The cue ball skimmed the side of the ball, sending it off in the wrong direction.

“Seriously, man?” Dean demanded as he spun around, quickly realizing that Crowley was _way_ too close.

“If you can touch me, I can touch you, darling.” He took a step back to allow Dean to move away from the table.

His eyes shifted to the table with the empty glasses. “Did you drink mine?”

“It was only fair. Go get us our next round if you don’t want to wait for the waitress.”

He crossed his arms. “You just don’t want me around to distract you.”

He pointed the pool cue he had just picked up at Dean. “You overestimate your abilities.”

Dean smirked as Crowley began lining up his next shot, deciding to adopt a new strategy. He hoped up on the nearest chair and shouted to the half-full bar. “My friend sold his soul for a bigger dick.”

There were a few rings of laughter throughout the bar, but Dean’s attention was on Crowley, whose gaze had snapped up in a glare after the cue ball had spun off to the wrong side of the table.

Dean smiled smugly as he spread his arms. “See? Plenty distracting.”

Crowley stalked over to stand in front of him. “Get down here _now.”_ Dean hopped down, catching himself on Crowley’s shoulders to keep his balance. “That was just tacky. And you do realize that everyone here now thinks you’ve seen my cock?”

“Well, I have.” He shrugged as his hands dropped back down to his sides, too drunk to care about the topic of conversation. “Triplets, man.”

Crowley’s expression was unreadable, but Dean doubted he had a problem with it. “You said you didn’t peek.”

He shrugged. “I lied.” He walked around him, over to the table, feeling his eyes following him. Crowley’s miss had left him with an easy shot, which he sank easily without any distraction attempts. He realized why as he glanced up to see the demon thanking the waitress for their drinks.

That didn’t last long enough, though, and as he lined up his next shot, a pair of hands grabbed his hips tightly as Crowley pressed up against his ass. “So did you see anything you liked, squirrel?” he murmured softly.

A sharp gasp escaped him as the ball knocked into the 8-ball instead, mercifully not sinking it. He stayed perfectly still for a moment, regaining control over his facial expression, before he turned around. “I’m not answering that.”

“And whyever not? Embarrassed to say yes?”

“Just take your damn shot, okay?” He slipped out from between Crowley and the table and walked over to down his drink. He felt too warm, and he wanted to blame that on the alcohol, but he knew that wasn’t all it was.

He was doing his best to cool down when he heard the clicks of the balls from behind him. He turned around to see that Crowley had managed to sink his last two balls in one shot. “Dammit,” he muttered.

Crowley smirked up at him. “Still have the 8-ball, darling. So… I propose that you cease your distraction attempts for this shot, and in return, you get to pick the pocket. Should I miss and you get to this point, the same deal will apply to you.”

He arched an eyebrow thoughtfully as he looked over the table. One of his balls was blocking the 8-ball’s path to the side pocket closest to him, so that was probably his best bet. “This one.” He tapped the pocket as he took a step back from the table.

“Alright. Now, if you attempt to distract me you forfeit, understood?”

“Yep.”

Crowley carefully lined up the shot, bouncing the ball off the side and then landing it smoothly in the pocket that Dean had called. Dean’s face fell as Crowley looked up with a smirk. “What was that about you not losing?”

“Shit,” Dean muttered as a few people that Dean hadn’t noticed watching the game applauded.

“So, ready to pay the tab?” Crowley sauntered up to him smugly. “Or are you wanting to drink a bit more first?”

“Uh…” He glanced around awkwardly. He didn’t know how much their tab was at this point, but he was certain that he didn’t have the money to cover it. “Let me just hustle a couple people first.”

“Dean, you effectively got the attention of half the bar during that game. There’s no way you’re going to be able to hustle anyone here.”

“Okay, well, um…” He tried to figure out what he could do.

Crowley sighed. “I’ll pay the tab.”

“But I lost.”

“And you can’t afford it. If you feel that bad, I can come up an alternative price for your loss.”

Dean relaxed slightly. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“I’ll go pay, then.”

As Crowley turned and walked away, Dean realized that an open-ended bargain with the King of Hell might not have been the smartest idea. But it was Crowley – he wasn’t going to ask too much of him, surely.

“Thought up anything?” he asked as the demon returned.

“Not yet, but I will. You’re not driving home in your state, want me to teleport you?”

“Ugh,” he groaned, looking down. “I don’t think I should be around Sam and Cas while this drunk, I’ll probably end up saying something stupid.”

“I don’t think you have to be drunk to do that, but still probably a good idea. You can stay at my place, if you want?”

“Sure,” Dean nodded. “Beats paying for a motel.” And while he might have questioned Crowley more had he been sober, he knew that when it came down to it, he trusted him either way. Crowley wouldn’t hurt him.

“Glad you’re being reasonable, for once.” With a snap of his fingers, they were standing in a lavish bedroom. Crowley glanced around in mild confusion. “I was not aiming for the bedroom.”

Dean snorted. “Maybe you shouldn’t be drunk-teleporting.”

“Perhaps… at least it _is_ my palace, though – just not the right room.”

He nodded, looking around the room. “It’s nice. Very you.”

“Thank you. This is my room, though, so I’ll be showing you to a guest room….” He licked his lips thoughtfully. “First, though, I thought of an alternative for our wager.”

“Oh?” Dean felt a little nervous as he turned his attention back to Crowley.

“Let me set you up on a blind date.” He looked up at him triumphantly, while Dean frowned.

“Come on, man, I said I didn’t want a blind date.”

“Well, too bad; you need one.”

“But I like someone!” Dean’s face turned bright red after the words left his mouth. This was very dangerous territory while drunk.

Crowley’s expression fell. “Oh… oh. Well, I suppose, if you told me who, I could set you up with them…”

Dean shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would be the equivalent of asking you out, and I’m not doing that.”

Crowley’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “You…? Do you mean…? You like me?”

Dean looked away. “…Maybe…”

Crowley drew in a deep breath. “In that case… I think you should accept the new wager.”

“Why?” he muttered.

“Because I was intending to be your date all along.”

Dean’s wide-eyed gaze snapped back to Crowley. “You were going to set me up on a blind date with yourself?”

“I thought it was the only way you would agree to go out with me.”

“Oh. Okay. A blind date. Sounds good.” He bit his lip as he nodded.

“Alright, then. I should… show you to the guest room.”

Dean hesitated. “You don’t have to.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “I don’t?”

“I just mean… oh, screw it.” He grabbed hold of the front of Crowley’s jacket and pulled him in for a kiss.

Crowley sucked in a sharp breath before he wrapped his arms around him to grab his ass, pulling him close, and Dean’s hands slipped from the lapels of his jacket to wrap around and clutch at his back. The kiss was demanding, messy, and uncoordinated, but neither of them seemed to mind. It didn’t take long before Crowley began pushing Dean back towards the bed, and he happily complied. It wasn’t until Dean’s legs collided with the edge of the bed and he fell backwards that they broke the kiss. Dean kicked his shoes off, then reached up, pushing off Crowley’s jacket.

“You know, I never thought you would be the one to initiate this,” Crowley murmured as Dean pulled off his tie and tossed it aside.

“And because of that you’re gonna make me do all the work?” Dean challenged, indicating their clothes.

Crowley rolled his eyes and, with a snap of his fingers, they were both left in nothing but their boxers.

“Now, that’s more like it,” Dean muttered as he pushed himself up to the top of the bed, reaching out to pull Crowley on top of him as he did so.

Crowley’s lips found his again, and his hands set to exploring the body trapped beneath him. Dean moaned softly at the contact, pressing his hips up against him. Crowley’s lips slipped to his neck with a possessive growl and Dean’s hand shot up to grab his hair tightly as he tilted his head to the side to give him better access. His other hand slid down Crowley’s side to his boxers, hooking his thumb in the waistband to tug them down.

Suddenly, Crowley was pulling away, his hand wrapping around Dean’s wrist to stop him.

“What?” Dean looked up at him in confusion. “You have a kink for keeping your boxers on, or something?”

“No,” he sighed resignedly, rolling off the hunter. “But you’re drunk, Dean.”

“So?” Dean rolled onto his side to press his lips to his shoulder. “I have drunken sex all the time.”

“Yes, but I’d prefer _our_ sex not to be drunken sex – at least, not the first time around.”

“Oh, come on.” His lips began to move over his chest. “I promise I’m still good while drunk. Never had a complaint before.”

“That’s not what this is about.” He glared up at the ceiling, seemingly doing everything in his power to ignore what Dean was doing. “I am not going to have you wake up hating me because I took advantage of you.”

“You’re drunk, too. Maybe I’ll take advantage of you.”

“I’m not as drunk as you are, darling. And I’ve been wanting to sleep with you for too long for our first time to be like this.”

Dean looked up at him with a grin. “Really?”

The corners of Crowley’s lips twitched up as he met his eyes. “Yes, really. Now, how about you get some sleep and we’ll revisit this conversation in the morning?”

“Fine, but I expect some pretty awesome sex when I wake up.”

He chuckled. “Say that to me in the morning, and I will be more than happy to oblige.”

Dean pressed his lips to Crowley’s once more before laying his head on his chest, curling against his side. It was as comfy as he had thought it would be and he found himself drifting off in a matter of minutes.

When he awoke the next morning, he was perfectly content. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t have a hangover, and he was comfortable enough that opening his eyes seemed pointless. But then the events of the previous night came rushing back to him and a weight settled in his stomach.

“Oh, crap,” he groaned, turning his face into what he realized belatedly was Crowley’s chest.

“Morning, squirrel,” Crowley’s cautious voice spoke from above him.

“Morning,” he sighed as he pulled away to lay on his back, running a hand over his face. “I’m guessing you did something to make it so that I’m not hungover?”

“Perks to drinking with a demon.”

“Thanks.” He squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself from looking over at Crowley. He couldn’t believe that he had actually admitted his feelings to him last night – feelings that he had been avoiding even admitting to himself because he knew that they couldn’t go anywhere. He was such an idiot. “So… I suppose it’s too much to ask to pretend that last night never happened?”

Crowley hesitated. “Not if that’s what you want.”

He nodded. “Although, I guess I do still owe you a date...”

“I can just count what I got last night,” he said quietly, and Dean knew his voice well enough to hear the sorrow he was covering up.

He opened his eyes and turned to look at him. “Why did you want a date, anyway?” he asked curiously.

“Are you really going to make me answer that?”

“After what I admitted to you last night, I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.”

“So what you admitted last night was true?” he clarified.

“Oh, you didn’t think…” Dean cursed himself silently. “If I’d know that, I would have let you keep believing it.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “So you want to keep harboring secret feelings for me? Fine. So why can’t I keep mine a secret as well?”

“Because you don’t feel the same about me.” He had thought that line of reasoning was pretty obvious, all things considered, but apparently not, as Crowley was looking at him incredulously.

“I do personally believe that statement to be true, but not, I think, in the way you meant it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You ignore me half the time, pretend that you don’t give a damn about me. Meanwhile, I am _always_ there for you. So, you cannot look me in the eyes and honestly say that you care for me more.”

Dean’s jaw dropped open. “You…” He swallowed thickly. “Are you saying why I think you are?”

“I was in the middle of business when you called me last night, Dean. Why do you think I came? Why do you _think_ I wanted a date? And why do you think I had to be drunk to suggest it, even as a blind date? I’m not exactly shy about getting what I want, but I was too worried about losing what little I had with you to suggest it while sober. And do you _really_ think I normally say no to sex just because the person I’m with is too drunk to think coherently? You are a _complete_ and _utter_ moron.”

Crowley was glaring at him, but Dean’s face lit up in a smile. “Maybe I could be your complete and utter moron, then?” he suggested teasingly.

Crowley blinked, the glare instantly dissolving from his face. “Of all the ways to ask someone out, Dean Winchester…” He shook his head slightly, a smile playing at his lips. “You’re seriously going to make me say yes to _that?”_

“Well… you don’t _have_ to say yes,” Dean pointed out with a shrug.

“Well, I can’t say no.”

“How ‘bout a compromise, then?” He leaned in for a kiss, but Crowley pushed him back, rolling on top of him and pinning him to the bed.

“Fine by me.” He leaned down to press his lips against Dean’s heatedly.

“Control freak,” Dean muttered when he pulled away a minute later.

Crowley smirked. “I bet you like it.”

Dean just smiled in response. “So, I think you said something about sex in the morning?”

“Hmm… I suppose I should deliver on that, shouldn’t I?”

It was a fair while later that Dean rolled out of bed, looking around. “Dude, where did you zap my clothes?”

“Dean, I didn’t even teleport us to the right room because I was distracted by a stray thought of getting you in bed, do you really think I had enough presence of mind to think about where I was teleporting our clothes?”

“Well, you’d better figure it out because my cell phone was in my pocket, and I need to call Sam before he starts freaking out.”

Crowley snapped his fingers and the clothes appeared on the bed. “Huh. Apparently, they were on the front lawn.”

Dean looked at him exasperatedly as he began tugging his clothes on.

“What? I had just been thinking that I wanted them out of here. It’s what you get when a demon uses powers while drunk.”

“Good to know,” he muttered as he buttoned up his shirt, not missing how Crowley was watching him.

“Meanwhile, _you_ get rather flirtatious while drunk.”

“Yeah, that’s the truth.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the missed calls. “Shit.”

“What?”

“Five missed calls from Sam, three from Cas.”

“Wow. I think that’s a little overkill.” He got up and started getting dressed as Dean listened to his voicemails, which said basically just what he had expected they would. Crowley pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the screen. “Huh. Moose called me, too.”

“What? Why would he call you? He didn’t know I was with you.”

Crowley called his voicemail and put it on speaker. “Uh, hey Crowley, it’s Sam. I was wondering if you’ve heard anything from Dean? He sort of ran off last night and we haven’t heard from him since. I didn’t know if he might have contacted you, or if you’ve heard anything. If so, please let me know.”

Crowley glanced up at him with a grin. “Well, like you said last night, I was the only person you had to call. I guess he knows that.”

“Yeah, guess so. And now I suppose you know that’s not the whole reason why I called you.”

“Yes, and had I known that it was actually a booty call, I definitely would have cut the small talk short,” he teased with a wink.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Crowley chuckled as Dean called his brother back, motioning for Crowley to be quiet.

“Dean?” Sam answered.

“Hey, Sammy, you can tone down the red alert, I’m fine.”

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been a little… occupied. Didn’t hear my phone.”

“Ah.” Understanding rang in that one syllable. “Sorry, you just seemed a little tense when you left last night.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I am happy for you and Cas, really. I can’t think of anything better. It just caught me off guard.”

“I know how you found out was… unfair. I should have told you sooner.”

“Yeah, you really should’ve. And I’m sure as hell not going to make the same mistake.” He glanced at Crowley.

“What?”

“Listen, I was thinking we should do a double date sometime.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows, and it took Sam a few moments to reply. “Double date?” Dean nearly laughed at how confused his brother clearly was, but he held his composure.

“Yeah. You, Cas, me… and Crowley.”

_“What?”_

“Talk to you later, Sam.” He hung up the phone, looking at Crowley with a grin.

“Seriously?” he asked, though his smile was amused.

“Hey, I had to get him back somehow.” He glanced down at his phone as Sam started calling again and hit ‘ignore’. “I’m just gonna let him stew with that for a while.”

“Does that mean I get you for the day?”

“Depends.” He pointed at him sternly. “Do you have something we can have for breakfast?”

Crowley chuckled. “Right this way, squirrel.” He grabbed his hand and pulled him happily along behind him.


End file.
